


IV. Death By Water | Lucy (/Caspian, with Edmund, with Eustace)

by fire_and_a_rose



Series: The Wastelands [4]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: F/M, Lucy Understands the Little Mermaid, The Dawn Treader, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 09:04:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2423051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fire_and_a_rose/pseuds/fire_and_a_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of a series of stories tied together by the use of T. S. Eliot's The Wastelands, one story for each Pevensie, this fourth story deals with a romance between Lucy and Caspian X on The Dawn Treader.</p>
            </blockquote>





	IV. Death By Water | Lucy (/Caspian, with Edmund, with Eustace)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [penmage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/penmage/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I own nothing. I make no money. I write out of love only, and I hope I don't make Lewis roll over too many times in his of the series and individual stories are taken from T. S. Eliot's The Waste Land. And yes. I added an "s" and made it one word.

_[...] As he rose and fell_

_He passed the stages of his age and youth_

_Entering the whirlpool._

_T. S. Eliot_

Caspian's arms are around her, both of them curled together on the ship, and Lucy breathes in the scent of him. Old cloth, unwashed for too long, and the stink of wine that hangs, even when there hasn't been any for weeks, and the smell, always the smell, of the sea.  
  
  
  
She was a child, when she came here.  
  
Edmund had chosen not to notice until finally Eustace commented that they _were_ growing up, he and Lu, physically as much as any magic on the spirit (and even then, he denied it in Lu). Slowly, but happening. More visible in her than him, really. He'd gained an inch or two, but he'd already hit his spurt, and his voice had dropped.  
  
Lucy found herself very female, woman's mind in--it wasn't a girl's body, not any longer. She couldn't deny it, not really, when she saw the way the tunic Caspian had lent her, the old one, had stretched too tightly across her body--but then, perhaps this would happen in her world, in this much time, too, for it was that time in life, for Lu, when such things happened--and the boots were too tight.  
  
She had not been a tall woman, in the Golden Age, at least, but her legs seem to have doubled, despite that, and while she knows the reality isn't that bad, it's bad enough. She'd tried valiantly, for days, to hide it, and had finally pulled Caspian aside, face red, and said she'd needed to speak with him.  
  
He'd frowned, and followed her into the cabin he'd given her, and she'd pulled off the cloak it was too hot to be wearing, really. "I think," she managed, eyes closed but voice even, "that I might require different clothing."  
  
He'd stared at her, and blushed himself, though she couldn't see it, and didn't reply for so long she opened her eyes.  
  
"I--look, Caspian, I know it's awkward, but _don't_ make fun of me, please?"  
  
"I wouldn't!" The way he'd said it made her pause, and he'd swallowed and said, "It's just--" and she'd thought she'd heard him say, "It was easier when I could pretend it was my imagination," but it was low, and then he was digging clothing out for her from a trunk, and she said nothing beyond, "Thank you," softly, when he handed them to her.  
  
He left quickly, and it was a while after she changed before Lucy came out onto the deck again.  
  
  
  
Edmund couldn't deny it, either, not any longer, when he saw his sister, and he wished he could. Because it was not--it was not indecent, but it wasn't proper, her in Caspian's clothes, the tunic like a too short dress. It flattered her.  
  
Too much, he thought, darkly, grumpily, and Eustace, of all people, looked up at him from where he and Reepicheep were playing chess and said, "You've nothing to worry about, you know."  
  
"What?" Absently.  
  
"Well, none of them would dare touch her," reasonably. "They all think she's Caspian's, if they've a mind of that sort, and the ones who don't can tell he wants her."  
  
Edmund turned, slowly, and looked at him, with something cold in his eyes. "Repeat that?"  
  
Reepicheep threw a captured pawn at Eustace's head without looking up from the chessboard after he'd done so and Edmund'd stormed away.  
  
"Ow!"  
  
  
  
Edmund watched, and couldn't deny it, that Caspian wanted his sister.  
  
And so, nonchalantly, one day, on the deck, hands behind his back, he came up to the other king and said, in a pleasant tone, "If you dishonour her, I'll kill you where you stand."  
  
Caspian started and stared.  
  
"That said, if you love her, it would please me. But remember that we never stay."  
  
Caspian looked at Edmund and wondered when his face began to be older than Caspian's own--or at least his eyes.  
  
"Do you understand? To love us is to lose us. It will be no different this time."  
  
"It might be," he said, finally, and in that admitting everything.  
  
Edmund closed his eyes and breathed in Narnia and wept inside for what he knew would happen.  
  
  
  
Lucy was dancing on the deck to herself, humming a tune, and Caspian watched, eyes dark.  
  
He would not dishonour her.  
  
He would make her his queen, but he would never dishonour her.  
  
Instead he came before her and bowed and offered a hand.  
  
The Queen looked at him, and smiled, and his fairy tale princess stepped into reality and took the hand he offered.  
  
  
  
Lucy leans back into Caspian's arms, when they're done, and smells him, and the sea, and knows that in this world, she has been dead for a thousand years.  
  
But for now, she has the water, and a king, and a dance, and love.  
  
Her brother cries for her in his heart, she knows, and she knows she'll die a little, when the voyage is over, and Lucy will be like the Little Mermaid. The prince marries a princess, and she'll be only sea foam, washed away.  
  
But for now, she breathes in Narnia, and she lives.


End file.
